


Farewells

by fivefootnothing



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-28
Updated: 2009-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-02 21:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fivefootnothing/pseuds/fivefootnothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peri wonders about all those goodbyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Farewells

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place post-"The Bride of Peladon" and pre-"Mission of the Viyrans".

_"You're a very brave person and I wish you every luck."_

_"No! Don't leave. Not like this."_

_"I shall miss you."_

_"I think you're doing the right thing."_

"I swear I'll never get used to goodbyes." A sniffle punctuates Peri's words, and she makes a feeble attempt to clear the tears away with the back of her hand.

He musters two forms of reply for her: a cream-colored handkerchief and a faint, sympathetic smile.

"God, why am I such a wreck?" She snatches the offered cloth and clears her nose, the indelicate sound reverberating above the ever-present thrum of the Console Room. "Don't you dare answer that, Doctor."

He remains silent, widened eyes suggesting complete innocence.

"I mean, she can take care of herself, right? And Pelleas better not pull anything stupid cuz I know Erimem won't stand for it. She'll probably run him through with a fireplace stoker and make her escape. And if she asks...if she ever asks to come back? If she ever gets on an intergalactic bullhorn and manages to contact us--"

Both his hands raise, a gesture of assurance. Or defeat. "We'll return to Peladon."

Her eyes settle on the kerchief twisted solidly around her bent fingers, on the red question mark embroidered on a single corner. The symbol coaxes a grin out of her. Naturally, he'd have this thing monogrammed; it made perfect sense, in a really really crazy way. "You're gonna be alright, aren't you Doctor?"

"Of course," he says.

Maybe, just maybe, she hears a quiver in his voice. Or maybe she's only imagining it, her own emotions filtering her perceptions. The question mark keeps her attention, that elegant curve ending in a small, final dot, kinda like the period at the end of a sentence, telling you when things are supposed to end.

"I could ask the same question of you," the Doctor adds.

"Me? I'll be fine. No roommate in the bedroom? Heh, I'll sleep like a baby for once."

The Doctor shuts his eyes a moment. "A simple 'yes' or 'no' would've sufficed admirably, Peri," he says, all bristling frustration.

It's almost funny, she thinks, the way he acts so much like an old man sometimes. She really should get around to asking his age, one of these days. "Just...let's not happen to stumble upon anyone else who'll want to travel with us, okay?"

His irritation softens, eases into concern. "You know I won't be able to promise you that. The vagaries of our shared journey don't allow for it. We may find another individual just as worthy of joining us, just as clever and headstrong and ready to explore the universe."

"Well, it was worth a shot."

"Would you rather have not met her at all, then?" he says suddenly.

"Y-you can do that?" she sputters, not quite sure what to think of the idea.

"I do realize she might not look it, but the TARDIS is a perfectly serviceable time machine when she wishes to be. Just say the word." He's calm and rational, a little too much like those sober Time Lords he's spent several lifetimes trying to outrun. "And everything we've experienced since that fateful day in Egypt will be wiped from history."

"Doctor, she might have been killed if we didn't help her."

"As history intended, had we not interfered."

"Well, how's that fair?"

"I never said it was. Only, what history intended."

"Yeah, well, history can bite me in the you know what. You took Erimem out of her own fated history and put her somewhere else. Isn't that...illegal?"

"No more than removing you from your fated place in Earth's history and allowing you to travel with me."

"Doctor," she says, realization dawning. "How many times have you done this? Y'know, take someone with you?"

"More than enough times to know better, and yet I always do. Well then, Peri. Where shall we go next?"

He's got a glimmer in his ancient-yet-young eyes, a spark Peri's not seen since she herself boarded the TARDIS after Turlough left, not since Erimem first joined them either.

"I dunno, couldn't we just drift along the temporal currents or wherever the TARDIS floats around in when we're not running to or from danger?"

"Grallista Social it is," he barks, descending upon the console with a flurry of pressed buttons, turned knobs, and pulled switches.

"Doctor..."

He lifts a hand briefly, silently abating any further conversation while he programs in the coordinates. The message clear: don't bother me; I'm busy.

"You're like a man possessed sometimes, Doctor," sighs Peri, her hands still twisting around and around the handkerchief. It would've been nice, she thinks, to get a hug from him. Maybe even grouchy, sullen silence would've been better than this. A complete dusting of hands, like it didn't matter. On to the next adventure and maybe this time it'll be different. She's wishing it could be less than a complete cop-out, a running away.

Or, she thinks as she watches the Doctor darting around the console, maybe the only way he can cope with the goodbyes is to revel in the still-heres.


End file.
